Nightmare Of You
by Pyjamas
Summary: As Takeru struggles with his worsening nightmares and increasingly intense fears, he feels himself losing his hold on the person he loves the most. [Taikeru]
1. Fear of the Unknown

**Title: **Nightmare of You  
**Chapter title: **Fear of the Unknown  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes**: A continuation, if you like, of my Taikeru drabble, 'Comforting Sounds'. I enjoyed writing it so much and was so inspired that I had to write more. This isn't going to be a long fic; only a few chapters long. I just hope there's some emotion there. And my assigned beta seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet, so TK kindly beta'd for me; I would have waited, but I'm in a rush in case I lose inspiration.

* * *

Takeru walks in a questionably straight line down the street, trying not to lose his balance. The nightmares won't seem to stop, and he can't sleep. A yawn is suppressed as he turns a corner; he tries to pay attention to the faint noises animals are making in the dark. But they get repetitive very quickly.

He doesn't know where he's going. Perhaps he should have thought about it before he left. He knows he's safe here, but he still feels nervous being out alone this late at night. There's not a soul around. Yes, he's safe, but…

No. He's not safe. Not while Taichi's back at their apartment on his own. Of course he's probably sleeping. Why wouldn't he be sleeping? He does like to sleep, and he only ever wakes up in the night if Takeru wakes him up. Like tonight, when Takeru had another nightmare.

But he's never convinced when Taichi tells him it's ok, that nothing can hurt him and nothing can break them apart. He always gives a smile and lets Taichi feel like he's done a good deed, reassured him; but when he closes his eyes again the smile fades and Takeru will drift back into his nightmare world.

It's an unpleasant place. The creatures are like nothing he's ever seen; too different to both animals and Digimon for him to consider them familiar. The last couple of weeks have favoured a giant rabbit. It's white and its eyes are angry and red, and Takeru is tempted to refer to it as an albino. The teeth are big, sharp and stained. But it's slow, and it hardly moves at all. It doesn't have to. Nightmares are funny like that; not making sense.

The rabbit killed Taichi tonight. Again. He wasn't even running; neither of them were. Takeru couldn't understand why.

He still can't.

It didn't, and still doesn't, frighten him. He was a little scared the first time he encountered the rabbit, like he was the first time he came across each of the creatures. But it's ok now, because he knows the rabbit. It's comfortable to see, and he doesn't mind it because it doesn't move. Some of them move, though. One of the first ones was a hippo which stood upright and wore stripy pyjamas; that one moved quickly. No hope of escape, but even then Takeru wasn't frightened, not after it had killed the first time. Because he _knew_.

He still struggled when they moved. He couldn't help it; it was like he was programmed to resist. Taichi never did though. Even in nightmares, he was still first and foremost the Child of Courage. There are never any words of protest, any screams to ring in Takeru's ears long after his sweat has dried and his breathing has calmed. Taichi took the senseless killings like a man.

Always having to be the hero. It's something Takeru loves about Taichi, and he knows that one day it's going to be his downfall.

The scenes replay and Takeru's fingers tighten around the pockets of the dirty jeans he had hurriedly pulled on. No matter what the creature or how fast it moves, it always has the same intention. And it always succeeds. Every time Takeru has to watch the person he loves most in the world die, and there's nothing he can do about it except scream and struggle against bonds that aren't there.

But the worst part isn't the hunger in the eye of the beast when it looks at Taichi, or the dreadful sounds of the spring snapping shut and the metal jaws crunching through bone. It's not the vain and pitiful determination to triumph in the end that Takeru can always see on Taichi's face, nor is it the utter uselessness he feels when he _knows_ what's coming, because it always does.

No. The worst part is in that brief, hideous moment when Takeru's eyes are wide and his fingers are twisted over themselves, tangled in the sheets. When he can feel cool air against his wet skin and his hair stuck to his forehead, the tenseness of every muscle in his body and the drum of his heart pounding desperately against his ribcage. When his breathing is almost too hard to bear and he's shaking so violently with the awful blow of what he thinks he knows.

When he has to turn and hope, with everything he ever had and ever will have, that Taichi is still lying next to him, alive and breathing.

And so far he has been. Takeru has been able to push his hair back from his face and let out a heavy breath with visible relief every time his nightmares have been too much to cope with. Taichi's always there, never complaining when Takeru wakes him up and craves reassurance. He'll hold his hand and whisper soothing words, his voice melodious despite being groggy and laced with exhaustion. Sometimes, like he did today, he'll rub Takeru's thigh or stomach instead of holding his hand; it has the same effect. But his voice is always soothing, calming, reassuring. Like nothing else Takeru has ever heard, and he never wants it to be taken away. Just hearing his voice is often all Takeru wants, and this can be his motive for waking him up. Other times, he has to check that Taichi's still alive. Even if he's snoring; Takeru has to be absolutely sure.

He hears a bird and stops where he is, hesitating before turning around. He needs to go home; Taichi's not safe there on his own at night. Taichi's not safe anywhere on his own, and neither is Takeru. His quickening footsteps echo through the street, loud and lonely, as he makes his way back.


	2. Rendered Unprotected

**Chapter title: **Rendered Unprotected  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Digimon.  
**Notes: **Mood swings are funny old things, aren't they? I've been in a wonderful mood all day and all of a sudden I feel foul. I think it was my mother this time, actually. Oh well.

* * *

It's beginning to look like it's beyond Takeru's control. To sit on the sidelines and watch Taichi play… it's all he can do. No interception, no words to aim to reassure. He has to be sure with his eyes, not his hands or his voice, and it's a difficult thing to do when the rabbit is sitting before him. Waiting for the perfect opportunity, no doubt. Well, it's not going to get it today. At least Takeru can be sure of that. He's watching over Taichi now, and he'll collect him the moment the game has finished. Not that much would happen during the day, anyway. Takeru's certain that any evil will wait until it can be hidden by the night.

He hasn't slept, so the dark marks stand out and make his eyes look puffy. People have been noticing too, but what can he say? It's the shameful truth that he's been losing sleep over petty nightmares which should have been left behind along with his childhood. When he'd visited his brother that morning, Yamato's first comment was, "Taichi's been keeping you up, has he?"

A smile had been forced and a croaky reply of, "Something like that," had been uttered. And that was the end of that. Yamato never had been very good at reading between the lines, something for which Takeru was quite glad. If he'd noticed the prominence of the marks and the barely suppressed yawns he might have realised that his little brother had slept very little in recent weeks, meaning awkward questions and good-natured teasing. Yamato is less protective of Takeru now that he's older and also under the reliable wing of his best friend, so nightmares have become a thing to laugh about rather than chew over.

Thus they weren't brought into the conversation.

Takeru rubs his eyes one at a time, careful not to let Taichi out of his sight but at the same time craving rest. The rabbit's beady eyes trace exactly the same path, collected yet lazy, almost seeming bored with the game.

Hikari was a little more pressing about it than Yamato had been. One of the most observant people Takeru has ever known, she was the one person he'd been hoping not to run into looking the way he did. Sod's law. She was already worried when they met, and Takeru had realised with a bit of a start that she might already have heard about the nightmares from Taichi; if she had, she didn't show it. She tried almost everything she could to wheedle out of him what was wrong; she was very gifted, and it was a miracle that he'd managed to get away after revealing very little. He knew he wouldn't have been able to if they weren't best friends. Even so, she'd promised to check up on him.

But her parting words had tugged at his heart strings: "If you won't talk to me, at least talk to Taichi. He's not going anywhere, and he loves you to bits. Whatever's the matter, he'll always be there for you."

He wraps a strand of hair tightly around his finger before tugging it out. Hikari had been wrong, but he doesn't have any proof. Nobody will believe him if he tells them that the rabbit, or perhaps another creature, is going to take Taichi away. Even he thinks it sounds a little stupid. He said it aloud once, his only company being his own reflection in the mirror, and even _it_ seemed to laugh at him.

Taichi glances up in his direction, a mad grin blossoming over his face and his arm flailing wildly in the air. At least he's enjoying himself, but then he has no reason not to. He's doing something that he loves, and winning, with the person he cares most about watching. That's all that matters.

It's a good thing that Taichi isn't as perceptive as his sister. If he was, Takeru would never be able to get away. In the house, at night, or whenever they met, he'd be pestering for information. And it'd be sweet that he cared that much, but it's not an issue Takeru can talk about much. He's afraid that if he does, the nightmares will stop pursuing him and instead he'll be the one trailing behind. But as far as Taichi is aware, by morning the nightmares have disappeared, not to return until the next time Takeru sleeps.

After managing to wave back, Takeru sighs and brutally rips out another hair. He wishes he could see the world in black and white, like Taichi can. Everything's either good or bad. One or the other, without an in-between. It must be wonderful.

But Takeru's world has that horrible grey area in it; that part where the good and the bad get a little muddled. That's where he is. He sees Taichi, his lover; Yamato, his brother; Hikari, his best friend. The people he loves, the rest of the chosen, he sees them too. But then there's that damn rabbit too. And they're all in grey.

He helps himself to another hair and watches Taichi run across the field after the ball. He looks so good, it's hard to imagine why anyone would want him gone. Perhaps these creatures don't need reason or purpose. Quite an unnerving thought; Takeru hopes that, should the time ever come, Taichi can still run that fast when they come for him. He'll have to, and it shouldn't be a problem because he runs all the time. But it's dreadful, because in the nightmares Taichi doesn't run and it ends in his downfall. Then there's that sick feeling churning in the pit of Takeru's stomach, and he wants to be ill but he can't. He can't do anything. Not even protect Taichi.

The rabbit grins back, and Takeru wants to leave.


End file.
